Head to Head (On Pointe Book 2)

by Penelope Freed

  I wink at Katy behind Lisa’s back. “Yeah. We should go to that Japanese bakery that’s down the street from the theater.” Our performance is held in the local college’s theater, which happens to be down the street from Lisa’s favorite bakery. It fits perfectly into our plan.

  “Are you sure? I can stay if you want me to.”

  “No sweetie, you don’t need to stay,” Ms. Parker reassures me.

  “But…”

  “Hannah, you’re fine. Taking a week off didn’t ruin your technique. Rest is just as important to your training as class and rehearsal, and you had an extremely intense week in New York. You’re going to be lovely this weekend, I’ll see you at the theater in the morning.”

  “If you’re sure…” I trail off, torn. My dancing in class tonight felt great, when we’d run through our big ballet production number it felt good, but I’ve never seen Ms. Parker act so casually about anyone missing classes and rehearsal the week before the show.

  Usually my year revolves around two events—The Nutcracker in December and the end of year recital on Memorial Weekend. But this year has been so full of important events and competitions that it’s all blurred together. Is it disloyal not to be as excited for the recital as usual? It’s not that I’m not looking forward to it, but with PSB looming in a few weeks, and all the drama I’ve had between Olivia, Trevor, and now Lisa, the recital doesn’t have the same weight that it did last year.

  “Hannah,” Ms. Parker interrupts my thoughts. “Go home. Relax. Watch a movie or something. And not a ballet movie. There’s more to life than ballet.” Teasing, she takes hold of my shoulders, forcing me to look into her face. “If you want to be an artist, you have to actually live life a little. How can you express what you’ve never felt before? Go be a kid for a night, it won’t kill you.”

  As usual I’m the last one out the door. Sliding into my car, I pull my phone out to check for any messages from Trevor. My boyfriend. That’s so weird. But also fills me with butterflies and glee.

  Trevor: So, I know you have a big day tomorrow, but what are you doing tonight? I think we need to celebrate our first official Friday night together.

  Trevor: Please pretend that was cooler than it sounded.

  Trevor: I’m going to stop now, before I talk you out of dating me

  Trevor: (that was not an invitation to stop dating me, please don’t do that)

  Trevor’s last text makes me laugh out loud, startling myself in the quiet of my car.

  Me: I can never tell if you’re really that hard on yourself, or if you know it makes me laugh because between the 2 of us, I’m definitely the least cool.

  Turning on the engine, I wait for the response I know is coming before pulling out of the parking lot. It’s definitely too hot to sit in my car without the air conditioning on. Trevor’s response is the “both” gif from The Road to El Dorado.

  By the time I’ve driven home, Trevor has had a one-way conversation with himself coming up with and rejecting at least four ideas including cleaning our rooms, going mini-golfing together over Facetime, and bowling.

  Me: How about we watch a movie together? I have a long day tomorrow at the theater and you have your race. Don’t you have to get up at the crack of dawn? I don’t want to keep you up late.

  Trevor: Deal. As long as it’s not The Notebook, I hate that movie.

  Me: You’ve seen The Notebook?????

  Trevor: Not a total cretin. But I don’t like that Noah guy, he’s a manipulative ass.

  I can’t say I disagree, I’ve never liked that movie, even though Olivia says it’s romantic. I don’t think there’s anything romantic about a guy who basically blackmails a girl into going out with him, it’s creepy.

  Me: I hate that movie too. How about you pick tonight.

  Trevor: I knew I liked you for a reason.

  Walking in the front door, the smell of barbeque chicken has my stomach rumbling. I grab the dinner my mom left on the kitchen counter for me and sit at the table, already picking the peppers off the salad sitting next to a piece of grilled chicken and crunching on them. A note on the plate letting me know they went out to a movie explains the quiet house.

  Trevor: How about Captain America this time?

  Me: Sure, give me 10 minutes to eat dinner?

  Trevor: No rush, I can wait. How was class? You got any new blisters? Your trick totally worked, by the way, even if putting a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol hurt like a bitch. You seriously do that every time? That’s savage.

  Me: Got a new one on the back of my heel and the callus on my pinky toe has a blister under it so now that’s going to rip off. My feet got soft on me.

  Trevor: Seriously? That’s like, the most badass thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t know how you do it, I’m such a wimp compared to you! If it wasn’t for my race tomorrow, I would have taken more time off from running when I got those blisters.

  I get Trevor to tell me more about his race tomorrow while I finish eating my dinner. The fact that he’s going to get up in the morning and run thirteen miles is beyond crazy to me. Excuse me, thirteen-point-one miles. I can’t even run one.

  I take my last bites of dinner and scramble up to my room to change out of my leotard and tights and into some flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top before climbing under the covers and snuggling down into my bed, pillows propped up behind my head. I plug my phone in to charge, pull my laptop onto my lap and put my earbuds in.

  Trevor answers on the second ring. “Hey, Twinkle Toes.”

  “Hey, Spidey,” I tease back. “Climb any good walls today?” I was proud of that one, I thought it up in the car on the way home. Trevor’s chuckle made it worth the effort.

  “Oh my god, that was so bad, I love it so much.” He groaned. “Your dad joke game is strong, but can’t beat my dad’s.”

  “I dunno, my dad is pretty awfully bad,” I say. “He once told us a thirty-minute-long story for the pun at the end. It was amazing.” I laugh. “Ok, so are we watching this movie or what? We can’t stay up too late.”

  “Wouldn’t want to rob you of your beauty sleep.” He coughs. “Not that you need it.”

  Caught off guard with the sweet little compliment, I don’t say anything, too nervous to speak. It’s even worse—better?—having him in my earbuds like this, his voice right in my ear. I clear my throat, trying to think of something to say but come up blank. Instead, I open up my laptop to find the movie.

  “Wait, there are two Captain America movies. Which one?”

  “The First Avenger,” he says. “Three, two, one, go” We hit play and settle in to watch. Together. A kind of date? Does this count as our first date? I’m not sure, but whatever it is, it’s nice, and makes me feel fuzzy and happy and nervous all at once.

  I’m getting pretty sleepy towards the end of the movie, mostly saying “Hmmmm” and “mmmhmm” in response to Trevor’s remarks. My eyes are heavy and even though I want to watch the movie it’s almost impossible to keep my eyes open any longer.

  “Hannah?”

  “Mmhmm?” I murmur.

  “You awake? Want me to let you go?”

  “Kind of,” I manage. “How early does your race start?”

  “It starts at seven. Will you be up that early?”

  “Probably. Need a good luck charm? You were mine.”

  “I would love for you to be my good luck charm.”

  There is a long silence, only the climax of the movie softly playing from my laptop speakers, Captain America is flying a plane into the arctic and things are sad.

  “Wish you weren’t so far away,” Trevor whispers. I smile and am asleep before the movie finishes.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Lisa

  Me: Am I supposed to act surprised when you get here?

  Hunter: Yup

  Me: I’m not that good a
n actress, I don’t think they’re going to buy it….

  Hunter: You got this Sport. My beautiful, badass girlfriend can do anything she sets her mind to.

  If I wasn’t walking down the street with Katy, Hannah, and Olivia, I would twirl with happiness at Hunter’s words. Since our kiss on Wednesday night, we haven’t told anyone that we’re together, mostly because we think they concocted some scheme with Olivia to get us together, and we’re too curious about their plan to ruin the fun.

  If you wanted to call it payback, you wouldn’t be wrong, but that’s a matter of semantics.

  I trail behind Katy as we walk, my legs tired after the on-stage rehearsals this morning. We probably look ridiculous to the people passing us by, our hair slicked back into tight buns, athletic shorts and tank tops covering up our pink tights and leotards, but we don’t care. I suppose one good thing about dating Hunter is that he’s already seen me in all my ballerina hobo chic glory.

  Pulling open the door to the bakery, the sweet scent of yeast and sugar wafts out. Two walls are made up of clear display cabinets, filled with row after row of pastry, each individually wrapped in the bakery’s distinctive maroon and white branding. Grabbing a tray, I peruse the selection, debating between the savory and sweet offerings. Croissants, muffins, twists, fruit-filled and cream-filled buns. Buttery, flaky European-style pastries compete with soft, fluffy Japanese-style goodies, but all of it is delicious.

  “Everything looks so good, what would you recommend?” Hunter says from behind me.

  Whirling, I turn to find him, Jack and Tyler standing behind us girls. Olivia bounces over to Tyler with an enthusiastic hello, handing him her tray before wrapping her arms around his waist and nestling into his side. A pang of jealousy hits me, I want to be able to do that with Hunter so badly, even if I’m equally embarrassed at the idea. Glancing at Hunter’s face, I catch him also looking at them. I’m pretty sure our expressions match.

  For a second, I want to abandon the plan to see what kind of scheme they’ve concocted, but Jack breaks the moment for us, throwing his arm around Katy’s shoulder and reaching for her head.

  “Do not,” Katy screeches, wiggling out from under his arm before he can mess up her hair. “Ugh,” The irritation in her voice is real, even if I know the boys showing up here is anything but a coincidence.

  The empty tray dangling from my hand is taken from me. “So, what do you recommend? Right now, I want one of everything.” Hunter draws me away from the others toward the display of flaky pastries I had been eyeing earlier. “How about this one?” He points to a danish-type pastry with apples and some kind of sweet cheese filling.

  “Everything is good, but that’s one of my favorites,” I tell him as I pull open the door and use a pair of tongs to pull out two. I suppose Hunter doesn’t have to be as subtle as I do, they are expecting something to happen, right?

  Eventually, Hunter and I narrow it down to one sweet pastry each, one savory each and one to split. Hunter throws a red bean bun on the tray at the last second. When I give him a questioning look, he grins. “In honor of our first time.” He winks before going to pay.

  Taking our goodies to a table outside, the seven of us spend an hour chatting and goofing off before we have to walk back to the theater to get ready for our dress rehearsal. Practically eight of us since Hannah and Trevor are texting the whole time. She shows us the picture he sent her of him with his medal after running his half-marathon that morning. He actually has two, the regular finishers medal plus an additional one for coming second in his age range. I guess he’s pretty good.

  It’s only when Tyler pulls out his own phone and Facetime’s Trevor that I remember they’re cousins. That’s so weird. But Trevor picks up, obviously a little confused, until Tyler flips the camera and we all wave. Hannah blows him a kiss, turning bright red at our collective “awwww’s”, then steals Tyler’s phone to wander off and talk to Trevor for a minute, without an audience. I would be more sympathetic if I didn’t know this whole thing was orchestrated by my friends to get Hunter and I together.

  Even if it was totally unnecessary.

  But I appreciate the effort they’ve gone to.

  Checking the time on the phone, I stand up, dusting the crumbs off my lap. “We need to head back if we’re going to be ready in time,” I say. We still have to do a full face of stage makeup for this afternoon.

  “Here,” Jack offers, gathering up all the trash on the table. Hunter pulls me to face him instead of letting me help. There’s a crumb of powdered sugar on the corner of his lip. Without thinking about what anyone else might see, I reach up and swipe it away with my thumb. Hunter catches my hand before I can bring it down, kissing the crumb off, his eyes locked with mine as his lips press gently against my skin. Goosebumps and heat wash over me, until I hear someone clearing their throat behind me. The delicious heat Hunter’s lips sent through me transforms into an embarrassed flush, my shoulders creeping up to my ears as I pull my hand away. Grinning, Hunter winks at me.

  “What’s up, man?”

  Looking over my shoulder, I see Jack, an identical grin to Hunter’s on his face.

  “We’re going to walk the girls back to the theater. Ready to go?” The last question is directed at me. At my nod, Jack heads back to the group. Tyler and Olivia lead the way, comfortably cozy, arms wrapped around each other’s waist. Olivia tucks her hand in Tyler’s back pocket, a picture-perfect high school couple. Hannah and Katy follow, chatting to each other until Jack pushes between them, throwing an arm over each of their shoulders. With a look back at Hunter, he winks, and steers them down the sidewalk, leaving Hunter and I behind.

  “I love my siblings, but they’re about as subtle as a rocket launch.” Hunter laughs, sliding his hand down my arm to twine his fingers with mine. “Shall we give them the show they’re looking for?”

  With an answering laugh, I fall into step with him, enjoying the tingles of excitement I get from walking down the street holding my boyfriend’s hand.

  Yeah, that has a nice ring to it.

  When I get back to our dressing room to change costumes between dances during dress rehearsal, there’s a red rose sitting on top of my makeup.

  “Hey, did anyone see where this came from?” I ask, reaching behind me to unsnap the high neck of my jazz costume. The black sequined crop top loosens and I pull it off, careful not to catch the sheer material on the sequins. The chorus of negative responses from the room piques my curiosity. I only have a few minutes to change so I shouldn’t get distracted, but I can’t help myself. There’s a note tied to the stem of the single red rose.

  That’s all it says. I flip it over, looking for more but the other side is blank.

  Catching Hannah’s face in the mirror and the sly smile Olivia gives Katy, it dawns on me. This must be part of their plan. Fortunately, we’re in a rush so I don’t have to try and act surprised, we’re too busy changing into the sage green dance dresses of our next piece.

  Every time we come down to the dressing room there’s another rose waiting for me, each with a note.

  This one is attached to a bright yellow rose.

  I have to hand it to my friends, I can’t figure out how the roses are appearing since they’re on stage with me the whole time.

  Katy can barely contain herself each time we come down. She’s like a puppy, wiggling and squirming with happiness.

  Each rose is a different color. Red, yellow, pink, peach, white and orange.

  That one makes me laugh out loud when it comes after our last dance before intermission. Since there’s no real audience out there, intermission is quicker today than it will be tomorrow during the real show. Still not enough time to relax and chat, but at least we can catch our breaths for a minute.

  “I mean, obviously it’s Hunter, right?” Hannah says, plopping onto the floor next to me to take her shoe off, rolling her ankle gingerly
. “Who else would do this?”

  I look her square in the eye. “I don’t know Hannah, who else would do something like this?” She squirms and pretends to look at her phone to avoid my gaze. Too bad for her I know there’s barely any reception down here in the basement of the theater. Letting her get away with it, I push to my feet and grab my next costume. Half way through.

  The next two arrive together, one stuck in each of my pointe shoes, one a dark pink, the other lavender. Points for creativity to whichever messenger that was. The timing is perfect too since I’m about to put on those pointe shoes. My Lilac Fairy variation, the same one I competed at YIGP with Hannah back in February, is up next. Ms. Parker always finishes the show with the advanced dancers’ ballet production. Hannah and I are each performing a solo—my Lilac Fairy and her Aurora. It’s a huge honor to get to do a solo in the recital. I’m not nervous, it’s not like this is a competition, but I am anxious to do well. I know it’s only dress rehearsal and there’s no one watching except our teachers and Mr. Mike, but I don’t want to jinx myself for tomorrow by doing badly today.

  The roses help.

  Somehow, while Katy is doing up the back of my tutu and I’m not looking, three pink and white roses appear just before we traipse back up to the stage.

  I don’t know how they did it, but my friends are pretty awesome. Although, I’m pretty sure those last two words are Jack’s contribution to the message.

  There are a few little mistakes and bobbles as we finish the rehearsal. One of the younger girls misses her cue to start and ends up crashing into Katy, and I fall out of one of my turns at the end of my solo, but otherwise it’s pretty good. Ms. Parker always tells us not to wish for a perfect dress rehearsal anyway, it’s bad luck.